


Makes It Fun

by Dynamic_Ideation



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cisco is a Brony because why the fuck not, F/M, One Shot, Smut, WestAllen Smut Week, strangers AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4240053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dynamic_Ideation/pseuds/Dynamic_Ideation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a lovely fellow fangirl for Westallen Smut Week! Late as hell, but hopefully worth the wait, hope you like it, Sugar!</p><p>Iris meets Barry at a bar, and his puppy dog eyes win him an intense one-night-stand with her.</p><p> </p><p>His face is shiny and self-satisfied.<br/>“You look like a glazed donut.”<br/>“Good.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Makes It Fun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bear_iris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bear_iris/gifts).



> As always, I love me some feedback! Thanks for reading!

The stench of cigarettes in the summer heat. Bubbles frothing from open bottles of beer. The smell of sweaty male bodies, bathed in testosterone, looking for female prey like animals. These were the things accosting Barry’s senses, until she walked by.

His elbows were crooked and planted on the bar, supporting his lanky weight. His boys, a couple of them the aforementioned predators, flanked him on both sides, ever vigilant, seeking.

They saw her too.

She excused herself and stepped confidently in between them, hailing the bartender and ordering a round of drinks for her girlfriends. She brought with her the smell of flowers, and fresh air, and a particularly womanly smell, like ripened fruit still on the vine. Barry leans in a bit, the last five beers borrowing him some courage, smiles in a way he hopes is seductive, and says, “hey.”

A sidelong glance. She sizes him up, quickly, and just as quickly decides to pass. But she offers a consolatory smile. “Hey,” she says back, before getting lost in the crowd.

Smooth. His friends waste no time mocking him.

“ _Hey_ ,” Oliver grunts, imitating him, “what was that, man?”

Cisco claps him on the back, before tossing a handfuls of peanuts into his mouth. “You’ll get em next time, Killer.”

Barry’s cheeks flush Embarrassment Red.

He’s down but not out. Through the crowd, a quick glimpse of her. He snatches the unopened pale ale from Oliver’s hand and makes a beeline.

“Dude, come on…” Oliver throws up his hands, laughing.

“Gotta admire the man’s determination,” Ronnie says, gulping his own.

Iris is pressed in on all sides, but she become acutely aware of a specific nearby presence immediately. She turns.

“Hi again,” Awkward Bar-Leaning Guy. Wearing a Shit-Eating Grin.

“Hello again,” She wears a Confused Face. “So, I……..” Eyebrows lifted, she anticipates his answer. Will he make it to his point? Music swells around them, making their chests thump. It’s not just the music for Barry. This girl, this woman, she’s sexual shrapnel wrapped in a glittering bombshell.

As for him, he’s huge. Well, not huge because he’s slim. But definitely tall and well built. He’s also somehow beautiful and baby-faced, but intense.

Hmm. Iris sizes him up again. Maybe worth a second look?

“Look, I’m an idiot. And I’m drunk and you’re way out of my league, but I had to at least try to get your name.” He holds out the beer. Her face is now amused, a “you must be shitting me” face. But he seems so bizarrely harmless and sincere, compared to the other poon hounds in here.

She takes it. “I’m Iris.”

“Barry.” He offers his hand. She doesn’t know how the static electricity could have accumulated, but she get a bit of a jolt when their fingertips meet.

“Oh!” She jumps. They both laugh, and relax a little.

Iris takes it as a sign.

When they try again, her hand gets lost in his, and she feels a current of energy flow back and forth between them, like they’d closed a circuit. Yep, she’s doing this. Doing him.

“It’s loud down here. Know any place we can go that’s a little more quiet?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I think the patio’s…” She tilts her head at him and licks her lips, suppressing a laugh. “Oh, you mean-oh! Right upstairs. We live in the dorms.” Iris tosses back the beer, throat bobbing as she sucks down the entire thing in one go. The night of Barry’s young life is about to begin, he can taste it.

He plans to taste it.

Iris clutches his fingers and he leads her to the nearest exit. The departure doesn’t go unnoticed.

“No way,” Ronnie groans. “Barry? No way! He won’t get none with this nice guy act of his, though.”

They don’t know what Barry can get.

Iris didn’t want to get her hopes up, and wasn’t necessarily expecting much; what she didn’t realize was that Barry was a superhero, running in a pack of superheroes. When he slams and locks the door to his room, all bets are off. Their pupils dilate to take each other in with the filmy moonlight drifting in the window. All they can see of each other are the whites of their eyes, and the deep pools of black that interrupt them. They size each other up, eye sex first, before pressing their bodies together, their sense of touch more sensitive in the gloom. Half of his face is illuminated when he leans down to kiss her. The other half, covered in shadow, Iris strokes with the backs of her knuckles.

Her lips are sweet to him, and he sucks on each one, and when he kisses her his tongue delves into her mouth, and he holds her face in his long hands, tilting her chin up so he could deepen the kiss, make it stretch, make it last. She kicks her five inch heels off, and it turns him on even more to see how much of a teensy little firecracker she is. Their pulses quicken as they begin to contact more skin, passing their energy back and forth.

Rough fingertips slide up her obliques…her top must come off, right now. Button for button she undoes his shirt while he watches, transfixed, almost in amazement. She spreads it open and checks out the view. Not bad, Barry. Not bad at all. It goes without saying that he’s loving what he sees. Her fingers spread on his chest look like coffee on milk; how well will they mix? Will the taste still be bitter? Or will the combination be smooth and sweet? Barry’s going to pull out all the stops, that’s for damn sure.

He watches her deft hands undo his belt, and his jeans drop to the floor. He helps her out of her skirt. He guides her to the bed, where he sits at the foot of it and he pulls her into him; he has much better access to that pretty neck, to those glorious breasts from this level. He leaves a trail of soft kisses burning from her throat to her navel, while his hands cup the curve where thigh meets glute, and he makes his way back up to suck each of her nipples softly, like Hershey’s kisses. He takes his time, making sure not to be hasty; not with Iris. She’s the kind of woman you give 110 percent. Finally he climbs up on the bed where he stretches out, all six feet and two inches, on his back.

“Come here,” he tells her, gesturing with his long, thin index. A smile tugs at one side of his lips. She straddles him, kisses him again. “Come here,” he says again. “All the way.”

_Well. Now we’re talking._

Barry’s tongue runs over every part between her thighs, every square centimeter. “Oh,” she says. It’s like a french kiss, and he sucks the lips of her pussy the same way he sucked the lips on her mouth. Iris gasps, and feels herself start to warm, to open up, like a flower, like her namesake. “Oh,” lower this time. He goes from the petals of her flower to the center. He eases her opening with the tip of his tongue and it’s like a tickle. Iris cannot control the movement of her hips, and she involuntary rocks them back and forth. He’s deliberate as he stimulates each of her walls.

Then his tongue lolls out, flat, and Iris rocks at the exact angle that makes her toes curl. He then begins to flick the tip over her clit, which take things to a whole new realm. She clutches at the headboard, digging shallow ruts in the wood. Barry coaxes high-pitches vociferations out of her and she can’t control the sounds, they just…escape. She grinds down on his face, hard, and she doesn’t mean to but his tongue just feels so good inside her and on her clit and holy shit it’s going so fast… “Barry, oh _God_ …” She bucks, almost jumping up out of the bed. It only spurs Barry on, and he brings his arms up under her thighs, clamping down on her hips, She can literally feel him smiling as he intensifies his efforts, and he shows her his strength when he uses those arms to hold her in place. There’s nowhere for her to run, and it’s blowing her mind. She’s all arched back and curled toes and clenched teeth, hissing through them as Barry held sway over her entire body. “Ssssss, oh, oh, oh, oh,” She relaxes into an orgasm and melts as it courses through her…and Iris makes it rain on his face, and Barry makes an appreciative sound, a sort of hum, like he’s eating a succulent dish.

His face is shiny and self-satisfied. “You look like a glazed donut.”

“Good.” Iris takes some of her glaze from the corner of his lips and sticks her wet fingers in his mouth.

He looks her dead in her eyes as he savors them. “Tastes good.” A bolt of electricity races down her back, hitting her low spine, making her shudder. She reaches behind her, and finds the part of him that makes him a man hard enough to chop down a tree. She’s prepared to return the favor, but he neither asks nor hints, so…main event.

“Condom?”

“Yeah…there’s got to be some in here…” He fumbles, nervously, through his drawers. Iris is amused, but somewhat impatient, now that he’s warmed her up like this. He’s so passionate, and that makes all the difference. Also, attentive and clearly a giver. Who knew? She takes her time, easing herself down on him. He’s…filling her. After a beat, she gets a handle on him.

Their rhythm is natural, easy, like they’ve done this before, together. And it’s surprisingly intimate, almost personal. Iris pins Barry’s wrists up next to his ears. She rides, in much the same way as she had ridden his face. There’s that grin again, and it says, I can get with this. The dark silence is broken only by their quickened breathing, and the creaking of the bed as it bent and flexed to keep up with their movement.

She goes from rowing to bouncing, working her hamstrings, taking in as much of that long dick as she could stand. Iris feels Barry inching closer to release; his head jerks to his left, a vein standing out in his neck and he fucks her faster until she starts to feel the muscle in his groin work to pump out his seed. His face turns red and twisted and ugly, but then says, “Aaaahhhhhh,” and he smiles again, and he’s just as beautiful as before. She giggles at him. She’s never seen someone smile so much during sex.

No sooner did he come than he’s hard again. He tosses the used rubber and goes for a second one. “Already?” her look is incredulous. “Doesn’t take long. I do a lot of things…really fast.” A sheepish expression. “That doesn’t sound good.” “No,” she laughs, shaking her head, “Probably not. But I’ve got zero complaints so far.”

“I’m glad.” He smiles wide, both boyishly charming, and seductively manly. He flips her on her back, straps up, and goes to work. He gives it to her, hard. His demeanor belied his power. And his body is indeed powerful. He’s in the push-up position, looking down at her while she digs her nails into his forearms. His stare is so intense; he’s watching her, charting her responses, measuring her reactions.

 

There’s the wet slap sound of rough sex, when bodies are colliding. It bounces off the drywall. _whap, whap, whap, whap_. The bridge of his nose nudges the soft flesh of her chin, exposing her vulnerable throat; he applies his mouth, nipping and sucking, leaving the flesh slightly bruised. She throws her hand up above her head, to brace against the headboard. She spreads her thighs wider, lifts them up higher, so he can go deeper. They quiver as she takes his thrusts; it hurts a bit, but his dick feels so damn good, putting pressure on all her walls, sliding against them, making her wetter so she can accommodate him, she has to take it…he’s hitting all the feel-good spots…

This shy nerd is fucking her brains out. Where the fuck did he come from?

"You’re fucking-” _huff_ “-my brains-” _huff_ “-out,” _Huff_. Each time he pounds her the words disintegrate.

“Yeah?” 

“Huh?” Was she saying thing out loud? She can’t even tell. She’s about to come, and couldn’t be distracted from the ecstasy if she wanted to be.

She claws angry red welts in the pale flesh of his back when she climaxes, shaking, jerking, tightening around him, pulling him in deeper. It’s different this time, because it originates from so deep within her, that instead of rolling through and relaxing her, everything clenches, and Iris grips Barry tight inside her like a vice, and releases, and squeezes, and releases, over and over in such rapid succession that she hears him say, “Damn!” She’s too busy humping against him, trying to extend the orgasm for as long as possible, to really hear him. 

When it’s over all the muscles in her body go slack, like she’s just received a top-notch massage- from the inside. She has, in a certain kind of a way. She thinks Barry comes again too but she can’t be sure because she isn’t thinking straight.

Bathed in sweat and hormones, hundreds of calories lighter, they engage in some after play while their heartbeats slow to normal levels. 

Barry gives her a final kiss and rolls onto his back, spent. They both stare at the ceiling, stunned. 

Had Iris been a smoker, well, this would be the time. 

She looks over at him. She doesn’t really want to ask, but feels she should. “Should I go?”  
“You don’t have to,” which means, I don’t want you to. “There’s some cake on the counter.”  
“Cake, of all things?”  
“What, you don’t like cake?” He teases. His geekiness is so unbearable cute.  
“Of course I like cake.”

It’s a My Little Pony birthday cake, complete with pink icing, for someone named “Cisco”.  
“He’s a Brony.” Barry shrugs nonchalantly.  
She ends up with her body curled into his, soft shoulders to broad chest, rear to groin, thigh to thigh, and a fat slice of cake on a paper plate.  
“You’re not gonna share?”  
She tears off a bit and holds it over her shoulder.  
He takes it with his mouth; the shock courses through her again. She pushes back against him with her booty, biting her teeth, considering round…what? Three? Four? But they’ve drained themselves, and they lose consciousness fast, drooling in REM sleep.

Iris wakes before he does, thankfully. She can steal away now, while all is still. It’s awful hard not to get attached to him. He’s almost…helpless. But still somehow a machine. This Barry character…he did something most couldn’t.

He made sex fun.

Iris leaves him there, snoring, but not before leaving a shred of envelope with her phone number in his long fingers.

**Author's Note:**

> My bad, the POV switches just kind of…happened. I guess I was caught up in the moment. ;)
> 
> Cisco does seem like he could be a Brony; they seem a lil different, but I love it when people aren’t afraid to be weirdos! I’m definitely one! lol


End file.
